Never::Dawn of the Dragon, Night of the Tiger
by Winter Skye
Summary: The sequel to Ever::Dreamtime. Sam's journey begins. (Complete)
1. Stranded

DISCLAIMER : Stargate is the property of MGM, World Gekko Corp and Double Secret productions. No infringement on copyrights and trademarks is intended. All original material is copyrighted to the author. 

* * *

Below them the gate-room was a hive of inactivity. Sam stared forlornly through the glass at the stargate itself. She'd run it through all the diagnostics she could think of and couldn't find a thing wrong; she'd reached the end of her mental check-list and there was nothing left. 

"Major?" General Hammond asked quietly. 

"Sergeant?" Sam asked. 

Sergeant Davis shook his head. 

"That's it, Sir," Sam said, despondently; but there was one last chance, "Short of stripping it down and putting it back together," she tried. 

"Which is one thing I'm not going to authorize, Major. This time, you've just got to accept it," General Hammond said. 

Davis began keying in a destination. Sam's shoulders slumped as the sequence completed. This was the last thing she wanted, but she didn't have a choice. 

"Ready, Sir," Davis announced. 

"Thank you, Sergeant." General Hammond paused. "Major?" 

"Yes, Sir," Sam said. Everything was, to her distress, far too quiet. Still, she managed not to look back as she left the control room, not even hesitating as she keyed the blast door open, or slowing down as she walked up the ramp. 

"Major?" General Hammond's deep, Texan drawl was far too loud over the speakers for Sam's liking. She stopped; looked back. Hammond's smiling face was almost mocking her from behind the safety of the plate glass. "Enjoy your vacation, Major!" Sam shouldered her pack and walked through the gate. 

For the first time since she couldn't remember she actually felt the cold of gate-travel. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy the down-time, it was just that she'd usually always managed to avoid it, to find something to keep herself occupied. But this was a one-way trip. General Hammond and Colonel O'Neill, and to her dismay even Janet had gotten involved, had ordered her to get some rest. How they'd managed to talk the Nox into helping them she wondered if she'd ever know. 

From an artificially lit room deep inside a mountain, Sam emerged into bright sunlight light-years away. The gate shut itself down completely before she could blink, just as the Nox had said it would. 

Sam blinked. She had two lonely weeks ahead of her. No one to talk to, no computers to work with, no gadgets to amuse her. She still had a GDO, fitted with an emergency over-ride to re-activate the DHD, but she'd been told in no uncertain terms not to come home early. 

"Consider it survival training," the Colonel had said. "You'll have all you need in your pack," he'd said. Sam waited for her eyes to adjust to the light. The warm air and cool breeze was annoyingly pleasant, and already she could feel herself relaxing far more readily than she wanted to. And worse, she was curious. The Nox had made assurances that she'd be safe, that there were no poisonous plants or dangerous animals, that there would be no need for weapons and she shouldn't be at all uncomfortable. Far from it, in fact. 

"Survival training," Sam muttered under her breath. The sun was a pale yellow in a pale blue sky, silvery-white wisps of cloud floating high overhead. Not a hundred yards from the gate was a small enticing lake enclosed on two sides by trees and shrubs bearing all manner of flowers and fruit. No more than three hundred yards further on, the fourth side was a low waterfall, a fine white mist feeding the lake. 

Without even thinking, Sam found herself walking towards the water's edge. The grass she walked across was bright and green, the flowers all around her were delicately scented and colorful, and the water, she knew, would just have to be cool and clear. 

It had only been a matter of minutes, but it seemed like hours since the short talk back in the briefing room. Two minutes to go over a survey of where they would be going. Two minutes to be shown a small archipelago in the middle of a large sea. No more than a few seconds of explanation, to have pointed out a small speck, an island a mile in diameter. Then a closer look. A few graphics showing the climate, atmosphere, expected weather conditions, flora and fauna. A smile at the Colonel's mock disappointment of no fishing. Finally quiet, before the slow, awful realization that it wasn't a team mission, that she alone was about to be stranded. 

The Colonel had rushed away, Janet had refused to make eye contact, and General Hammond had gently guided her back to the control room. Now, looking out over the lake, Sam didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She knew that the Colonel cared for her more than he should, that Janet was thinking of her health and well-being, and that they worried about how hard she pushed herself, but she never expected to be rail-roaded off the planet. 

Couldn't they trust her? 

Sam laughed. Someone -- probably everyone -- had put in a lot of hard work to make sure that this time she had a proper vacation away from all and any distractions. 

Yet the island was almost too simple, too beautiful, too perfect. Years of tough training followed by even more years of harsh experience had taught her to take nothing for granted. She knew that she ought to scout out the island, to verify and prove to her satisfaction that the reports were correct. She knew that afterward she ought to set up a shelter, to make sure that she would be safe and comfortable, to prepare just in case, but... 

Sam looked back towards the gate, back to where her pack had slipped off her shoulders, back to where of a sudden the weight of months of hard work had finally hit her... Back to where she'd stopped caring. 

She knew where she was with all manner of things; with calculators and computers, with gadgets and gizmos, with mechanics and motor cycles, with zat guns and space ships. She knew where she was with her family and friends. She even knew where she was with her enemies. 

There was only one person she didn't know, one person she never gave a moment's thought, one person she'd stopped trying to relate to. Sam sat by the water's edge and looked at her reflection. Maybe it was all an illusion, but her eyes were darker, harder, not as clear as they should be; there were lines on her forehead, about her eyes; her lips were thinner, more drawn; and when she smiled... 

Sam wondered if two weeks would be enough. 


	2. Curiosity

That first day, nightfall caught her by surprise. The warm breeze became a cold chill and Sam shivered as the temperature dropped several degrees in a matter of minutes. Her pack was still where she'd dropped it. Even after a warm, lazy afternoon of doing nothing, she had no willpower to go and fetch it. Sam slumped down, resting her back against a tree as the last rays of the sun sparkled through the waterfall. 

The last thing she was prepared for was a night alone outside the mountain. A night not in her own house, in her own bed, or in some strange complex or make-shift camp with SG-1, all of them sitting around a small fire talking about nothing in particular. 

There were no gray walls, no city lights. There was no hazy glow, no smoke or smog, no silvery moon. There was no sound but the gentle splashing of the waterfall. 

And she knew exhaustion would soon get the better of her. She spread her jacket out beneath the trees closest to the edge of the water, and lay still, staring up into a blackness filled with stars she couldn't name, in patterns she didn't know, wondering. 

The second day, she wandered about the island, climbing to the top of the waterfall, seeing for the first time how the lake filled the center of a huge caldera. She saw the ground naturally sloping away from the gate down to the water's edge. She saw the trick of the waterfall, of the illusion of height from level ground, of the curious horizons and the millennia over which the contours of the island had changed. 

She took the day to walk the island's perimeter. In all directions there was clear blue sea, other small islands were mere specks in the distance. She followed the path of the sun in a cloudless sky. She sat for a long while watching the shadow cast by a sapling, marking off the hours and the changing angle against her watch. For a while she chased her own shadow until she saw the gate and remembered who she was. 

The third day, after watching the stars for most of the night, she rose late. Breakfast was a bright selection of fresh fruit and cool, clear water. Later, she swam and splashed under the waterfall. 

The fourth day she was up early, laughing at her modesty. Her pack was a hundred yards away, the water only ten. She stripped out of her t-shirt, ran into the lake and dived in the direction of the waterfall. 

The fifth day, she would have killed for a coffee or even a slide-rule. There was only so far she could swim, only so long she could lay in the harmless sun -- not even going slightly pink. There were only so many meals she could make out of fresh fruit; there was only so long she could stare up at the stars without a computer to map them. 

She stretched out on the edge of the lake, wriggling her toes in the water. The warm breeze idled along the shore, rustling through the leaves on the trees, tickling her skin, brushing the grass, snapping a twig. Eyes closed against the glare of the sun, she was learning to relax, to enjoy the scent of the flowers, trying to think of something else for dinner except fruit. She dreamed of pizza and ice-cold beer, of dry science labs, of twigs... 

Sam sat up with a start, desperately trying to hide her nakedness behind trembling arms, squinting into the bright light, blinking rapidly. Far too aware, she could feel the heat in her cheeks at the sight of the equally naked man, blood rising more than she was accustomed to. Yet he stood casually, arms wide, non-threatening, smiling disarmingly. 

"You're not Nox!" Sam exclaimed. He was tall and dark, his hair was long and black and free from foliage. A great tattoo covering his chest and arms snaked around his neck. The stranger tilted his head curiously at her words. 

"No," he said. Cautiously, he moved a few paces closer. "Nor are you." 

"Human." The stranger gave no sign of recognition. Sam could see that the tattoo was more decoration than identification, and the man looked normal. "Tau'ri," Sam added, almost compelled. This he did comprehend. At least, the raised eyebrow and enigmatic smile was an all too familiar sight. "What are you doing here?" Sam asked. 

"Observing. Learning." 

Sam nodded, then blushed even more. "Oh." She drew her legs closer to her chest, folding her arms around her knees. 

"Why are you here?" he asked. 

Sam watched closely, ready to defend herself, as the man sat no more than six feet from her. He moved easily and gracefully, quietly, unhurried and incredibly unembarrassed. "I'm supposed to be resting," Sam said. "Alone." 

"This is a good place to rest." He gazed out at the waterfall, an easy, gentle smile on his face as he took in the clear sky and the trees and flowers before returning his attention to Sam. "And to swim. You swim well." 

Strangely, the gentle way he regarded her wasn't discomforting. His brown eyes looked modestly into hers; he was self-confident but not arrogant. Sam was sure he wasn't Goa'uld and quite obviously not Jaffa. 

"My name is Saurav," he said. "I, too, sought a place to rest." 

"So, the Nox have double-booked this place," Sam said. Saurav shook his head, not understanding. "The Nox have let us both here when we were both supposed to be alone," Sam explained. 

"Oh, the Nox do not know I am here. No one knows where I walk." He smiled. "Unless I want them to." 

Just when she was starting to relax, her faith in the Nox was gone and Sam tensed. The GDO and her pack were two hundred yards away; she could see them over his shoulder, in front of the stargate. 

Saurav saw her expression cloud. "You do not want me here?" It was more a statement than a question. "I have taken great care to watch you, to study your ways, so that I should not alarm you." He spread his arms emphasizing his openness. "I shall go, then." He stood, unaware of Sam's effort to look only above his waist. Not even waiting for an answer, he turned to walk away. 

It had only been a few days but she'd had been too alone and desperately needed someone -- anyone -- to talk with. And as he turned, she saw the whole of the tattoo on his back. It held her, watched her, she could almost hear it call out to her. "No!" Sam said, more urgently than she'd intended. "Please stay. But," Sam looked up as he turned to face her. "Do you have some clothes?" For the first time, Sam saw Saurav looking at her and not her face. She smiled shyly. He laughed and nodded before walking back into the trees. 

As soon as he was out of sight, Sam made a dash for her pack. She pulled it open, scattering its contents over the grass, keeping only shorts and t-shirts and some underwear. With her back to where Saurav should be, Sam dressed as quickly as she could, fumbling with her bra and almost tripping over as she staggered into her shorts. She walked back feeling much more comfortable, and just a little bit silly for her haste. If Jack could see me now, she thought. Jack hadn't, and she feared that he wouldn't. Couldn't. But Saurav had, and he'd tried to put her at ease without knowing how wrong he was. 

They reached the water's edge together. Sam still wondered about the broken promises of the Nox, but there was a peace about Saurav that instinctively she knew she could trust. More than that there was a familiarity about his presence, his demeanor. He wore a loose-fitting, brightly decorated sleeve-less tunic and silk trousers which only accentuated his tall, muscular physique; but there was more than that. She was wearing a plain black t-shirt and shorts; but he, too, she knew was looking beyond her simple clothes. Already she knew she was drawn to him. 

That fifth day, Sam met a tall, dark, handsome stranger. They spent much of it laughing at their taboos, and most of it talking about themselves and their travels. Just before dusk they went for a swim. As it quickly darkened and the stars came out they swam to the shore. For Sam it was the most peculiar feeling as Saurav took her hand, bowed over it, and wished her a good night. She could only watch in silence as he turned and walked away. 

... 

Sam woke early from a mostly sleepless night, washed, dressed -- only t-shirt and shorts, but at least they covered her modesty. A discrete distance away Saurav stretched and exercised in the shade of a tree, the double-headed dragon writhing across his broad shoulders. Saurav glanced over his shoulder as Sam approached, smiling as the snake continued its dance. He stretched one last time then stood still for a moment. To Sam, it seemed that the dragon moved on its own, like two winged snakes, eyes sharp, watching her, seeking its own place to rest. 

Almost shyly, Saurav picked up his tunic. "A strange thing that a man can walk unclothed without fear, yet is uneasy to cover his back." 

"I'm sorry," Sam said, "I shouldn't have stared." 

"Yet you are curious. That is your nature." 

"Curiosity killed the cat." 

Saurav looked puzzled for a few moments, then he laughed. "What a dull life it would be to sit still and not venture out." A faraway look of sadness crossed his face. "Yes, there are dangers... one needs only to learn to avoid them." 

"Easier said than done." 

"Observe. Learn. Trust." Saurav sat, crossing his legs beneath him in one fluid motion as he did so, resting his hands on his knees. "Do you trust me, Sam?" 

"Of course," Sam said without hesitation. There was such a calmness about him and they'd struck an immediate rapport; there was no way she could imagine not trusting him. 

"But why? All you know of me is what I have said, and what you see of me now." Saurav saw the look in Sam's eyes and the thought behind it. "And that, too." He laughed, self-assured, unintimidating. "Of course, you have the word of the Nox that you will be safe." Saurav looked up then, his smile wide, bright white teeth flashing in the sunlight. "Do you think their promises included me?" 

Saurav sat still, holding Sam with his eyes. "Do you wonder how I came here? Through the circle, or by 'ship or boat? Or would you believe me if I said I flew? Do you think the Nox would notice a stranger using their gate? 

"And still you trust me? 

"You have no weapons, Sam. I am taller than you, stronger, faster; you think your training will protect you? Of course, there is the device you discarded." His voice still had the comforting gentle warmth to it, but underneath there was an edge that made Sam look back toward the gate. She could see her clothes spread out over the grass. 

Saurav laughed, shaking his head at Sam's look of shock. "Would you like something to eat? This," Saurav held out a large orange fruit, "is best in the morning." 

"Are you serious?" Sam couldn't remember the last time anyone had such nerve to play her like that. She'd actually clenched her fists, and stood ready to strike if Saurav did make a move at her. 

"Sit, Sam," Saurav said softly. "You told me about your -- what did you call it -- door opener? I have not touched your belongings." Saurav split the fruit in half. "There is something about you, Sam, something I sense that makes me trust you, too." 

Sam sat across from him, accepting the fruit, not mentioning the Tok'ra symbiote that had once been a part of her. 

"Consider," Saurav continued. "I hear so many tales of the Tau'ri. You wander far, you create much... commotion among the Asgard and the Goa'uld. And the Nox let you here! The Nox, who are amongst the most reserved of the corporeal races! And now we meet, you intrigue me more than ever!" 

"Corporeal?" Sam asked. "Intrigue?" The enigmatic smile returned to Saurav's lips. "You didn't come her by chance, did you? You knew I was coming here? You followed me?" 

Saurav shook his head. "I did not know why I was to be here. I must believe in free will. Without it I am... " 

"You were forced here, like me?" 

"I go where I will. Always." 

"Y'know," Sam said, "You've said a lot about where you've been, but not where you actually come from." 

The comfortable smile left Saurav's face. He frowned, looked away from Sam. "My world was attacked by the Goa'uld. We were a peaceful people, a spiritual people. We enjoyed life, respected life -- as the Nox do -- but like you we could not sit still. 

"We had a stargate, although when they came we seldom had use for it. Occasionally, we welcomed visitors. One day the Goa'uld came through the stargate, they were... do you know the Unas?" Saurav asked. 

Sam nodded. "We've been there. Primitive..." Sam stopped -- Saurav's look told her that she'd used the wrong word. "Sorry. Young?" Sam smiled as Saurav nodded. "Except..." 

"They were violent, brutal. We fled. Almost all of us got away." 

"Most of you got away? We've seen what the Goa'uld do." 

Saurav looked away. "We lost less than a hundred," he said, somberly. "They surprised us. They were indiscriminate. They killed hoping to subdue us but they did not understand. They killed women and children, teachers and philosophers. We were not warriors. We did not fight them -- we could not, we did not know how -- so we fled." 

"But..." Sam started, "I mean, I'm sorry, I've seen whole races, whole planets destroyed, but..." 

"How?" Saurav regarded the fruit in his hand. Deftly, he separated the seed from the flesh, raised his hand to his lips, and blew. The seed scattered in the air and vanished. "A simple illusion." 

"But they would have guarded the stargate." 

Saurav grimaced. "Indeed they did." Simply, gracefully, Saurav unfolded his legs and he was standing over her. He took her hand gently and lifted her easily to her feet. "Not every race needs a stargate. One million people could not pass through it in a hundred days." Sam looked at him, disbelieving, and with a hundred questions she wanted to ask. "Come, shall we swim?" Saurav asked, covering his distress. 

As they walked out to the water, Sam trembled at the pain in his touch, and she, too, wondered at the fate that had brought them together. 


	3. Symmetry

"What is Space, Sam?" 

"Depends where you look," Sam replied. Right now she was idly gazing at Saurav's back, at the space across his broad shoulders, at the exquisite dragon extending down his back and arms and around his chest. The last thing she wanted was serious questions. She'd held him close as they'd made love under the waterfall, but now she was apprehensive, almost fearful of touching, disturbing, awakening the creature that rested all around his body. 

"Why?" 

The question was almost too simple. "Well, for a start it depends on scale, perspective. The space between stars, galaxies, space as a whole, or the space within the nucleus of an atom?" 

"All of them, and both the last two." 

"At the same time?" 

"Can you truly understand one without the other?" 

"That's something we haven't yet learned. It's something we search for, a unifying theory." 

"What is Time, then?" 

"Time is a paradox. There's always never enough when you need it the most, and too much when you need it the least." 

Saurav laughed as he rolled onto his back and pulled Sam closer. "Time is a state of mind. Space is... an illusion. My people, almost all of them, have taken themselves out of space and time, at least as you would understand it. They are restless and fearful. As am I. Yet still I must travel from world to world, unseen, alone. It is my only fear that I should be discovered, that I should expose my people to harm. Now, here I am with you, and..." 

"And?" Sam closed her eyes as they kissed, yet she could still see the stars. She watched them turn, slowly at first until they began to speed away and she was looking at a single local group, then a galaxy, and a cluster, and a cluster of clusters. And always, Saurav was there beside her. And just when she thought they'd leave their space behind them, she opened her eyes and again saw the look in Saurav's. 

"And now I'm afraid for you." 

Sam glared at him. "No one is afraid for me but me," she said, trying to ignore Saurav's gentle touch. "It doesn't work. I've been there too many times." 

"Perhaps this time it will." Saurav said. 

His voice was soothing, comforting. Sam let him hold her close. It was her choice to be safe in his arms, her choice to allow him to get near to her heart. They were both vulnerable, they'd both suffered more than time could ever fully heal. 

Yet there was hope, however brief their time might last. They were open with each other, confident together; when one spoke the other listened, watched, most often they held each other, giving and encouraging with all of their senses. 

"But Sam, I fear that I will place a burden on you that will never lift. The more we are together the more dangerous it will be for you. We have our own paths ahead of us. You are not ready to journey with me." 

"You think so?" Sam was lying in Saurav's arms, almost cradled against his body like a child. "I'm much tougher than I look." She beat a fist gently against his chest. 

"I know so. I am trying to convince myself as much as I am tempting you into committing yourself." Saurav spoke the words both of them were thinking. "Just being together is danger enough. Whatever has brought us together has done so for a reason. Why should you be distracted from your own journey? Why am I so far removed from mine?" he asked. 

"You Tau'ri are still young, as we once were so very long ago," Saurav continued. "You perhaps have the spirit that I do not. You would venture more, risk your life where others would run and hide." Tenderly, Saurav held Sam closer still. "Sam, shall we have this night together, a night in each others arms?" Saurav sighed. "In the morning you will swim and I shall hunt. And then... then we shall see." 

... 

Sam stretched out in the soft grass, eyes closed, head turned away from the early morning sun. Saurav was already gone when she woke. He hadn't said what he was hunting, or how long he would be gone, so she swam to ease her tension, to clear her mind of doubts and stray thoughts -- until there was only emptiness as she waited impatiently. 

The morning was as quiet as his shadow falling across her. Sam looked up to see Saurav's arms full of tunic stuffed with green leaves. "You hunted for salad?" Sam asked playfully. Saurav let the contents spill out onto the grass. "And fruit and twigs and rocks. I'm impressed," Sam laughed. 

"Special leaves." Saurav smiled. "And no ordinary fruit." Saurav split a melon-sized fruit, scooping out the flesh. "Please," he asked, "would you fill this with water?" 

Sam returned to find experienced hands stripping the leaves from their stems. Very precisely he began crushing the leaves between the two rocks, slowly mixing in the water Sam had fetched, creating a paste. In his steady, unhurried manner, soon he had half a fruit-full. "Of all the things we've talked," Saurav glanced up at Sam, "Of all the questions you never ask," Saurav spread his arms, flexing muscles, accentuating their definition, "your own sense of propriety prevents you from intruding." Sam watched as talons seemingly flexed and wings unfurled, as a second heart beat within Saurav's chest. 

"Come," Saurav stood, taking Sam's hand, leading her to the water. "Will you still join me?" Sam followed readily, she'd so quickly become much more than happy with Saurav's confidence in himself and in her. 

They swam out to the waterfall. Sam laughed as the fine spray filled the air about them, delighted as she saw bright fruit and fragrant white blossoms floating in the water around them. As they kissed, Saurav removed her t-shirt. Scooping up the fruit in his large hands, gently he pressed the sweet flesh to her skin, caressing her body and cleansing her spirit. 

And when Sam thought she couldn't take any more, when the heady scent of the flowers threatened to overwhelm her, when she thought his delicate, sensual touch would claim her, Saurav lifted her in his arms and carried her to the shore. And all Sam could do as he laid her down on his silk tunic was smile into his deep brown eyes. 

"Be still now," Saurav smiled back, kissing her brow. Sam looked on as he fetched the fruit-bowl of paste, as he fetched more water and a soft leaf. Her body was still as he made a cone of the leaf, filling it with the paste. A soft sigh escaped her lips as the first, the coldest, the tiniest drop fell on her breast. Sam closed her eyes, aware of the cool lines as Saurav began his drawing, alive to the swirls growing across her body. She didn't resist as he lifted her hands and worked his art the length of her arms. 

As the cool breeze swam around her, Sam lay still, lost in the world opening itself up to her, certain she could sense every ebb and every flow of the air washing over her. Slowly, Saurav kissed her, deep and tender until she opened her eyes to look up into his, to see them dark and glowing with an energy she had perhaps known before. Carefully, cautiously, he lifted her, eased her onto her stomach. 

Sam sighed as the cool silk soothed her, yet still it was an eternity. She knew exactly where Saurav was as he walked around and about her, the faintest vibrations giving him away. She heard him sit, she heard the scrape of rock on rock as he mixed more paste, so, so loud in her ears as she suffered to be still. Her mind began to rebel, her body began to ache, it was only her training, her discipline, which kept her from screaming against her immobility. 

Saurav again sat beside her, his cold touch on her back was almost too much of a release. Sam forced herself, called on all her willpower to breathe slowly, calmly. Line after line, arc after arc, circle after circle he drew, each one the most delicate torture until, finally, he too sighed. 

"Just a while longer, Sam," Saurav whispered in her ear, and Sam knew that his heart, as much as he tried to be steady, was beating as wildly as hers. 

At last, as the air began to chill, he stood and walked to the water. But still, Sam knew she had to wait. Slowly, he returned. Softly, he washed every inch of her skin. The urge, the need, the desire to cry out was greater than anything Sam had ever known. Strong hands held her, turned her, so deftly that she lay on her back staring into his eyes before she could even think to move herself. And so he began again, washing, cleansing until every last pore was fresh and new. 

Sam breathed deeply. The sun was low over the waterfall, she knew there was little daylight left. Saurav cupped her face in his hands and they kissed as if it was their very first time. As they stood, Sam stretched out her legs, stretched out her arms, arching her body, giving her muscles the chance to work after so much inactivity. 

And she saw in the fading light the great claws on her hands, the strong stripes on her arms, the sleek lines across to her stomach, the strength and the fineness, the bright contours across her chest. She stood tall, alive to the new weight of the animal, dangerous and aware on her back. 

Saurav watched her, his eyes drinking in her beauty, her perfection. Sam stood before him without fear or embarrassment, not naked but dressed in swathes of browns and golds. And Sam saw the power reflected within Saurav, the darker shades, the softer glow. 

The last of the sunlight fell behind the waterfall but the darkness never came. The stars came alight in the sky but the brightness didn't diminish. The air turned chill but didn't touch her. 

Renewed, invigorated, Sam wanted to run and to chase. The world was so much more alive around her and she wanted to touch it, to smell it, to taste it. 

Saurav watched her, his eyes drinking in her passion and fire. Sam took a single step, lithe and purposeful, the ground beneath reflecting her grace. She was changing; there were more colors, brighter, stronger; the fragrances were clearer, more intense; the sounds were more emphatic, so much louder. She was seeing further, each flower more vivid, hearing more clearly, each rustle of leaf, each creak of branch more distinct. 

Sam knew that more than her senses, more than her awareness had been heightened, enhanced; that Saurav had painted on her and transformed her. She turned to him and smiled, baring her teeth in a grin that was primal, almost feral. She chuckled, the resonance building deep within her, emerging low, dark, a snarl filled with blood and menace. 

A shrill, keen cry answered her, ancient and regal. Saurav fell to his knees, lurching forward on to his hands, his back arched, his neck twisting to an impossible angle. His body convulsed, a tremor starting at his feet, twisting, writhing up his legs, along his lean body. His arms flew out wide, his neck stretched out long and his head... Sam shivered as his head split in two, a new want engulfing her with more passion than she could ever imagine. 

The dragon shook itself from head to tail, dark scales glinting in the starlight, glistening wings spreading three, four times wider than Saurav's own span. It sat back on thick, strong haunches, its massive frame heaving as it sucked in the night air, bellowing out its rage. 

Sam cried out with lust as pain flooded through her. Her legs buckled, she fell forward, muscles straining against tendon in her arms and legs, striving to rip free of her fragile body. Razor sharp claws tore through hands and feet. Her hips cracked, fractured as her spine spasmed, as it uncurled, as it grew a great tail. Frightening teeth burst out from huge jaws, a heavy tongue filled her mouth. Her ribs broke and her lungs burned as she fought to learn how to breathe. A defiant roar rang out over the still water. 

Dragon and Tiger called out to the night. 

Dragon furled his wings. For one brief heartbeat all was quiet, still, then a blur as he launched himself into the air over the lake, spread his wings, found an updraft and soared. 

Tiger, crouched low, looked on with awe. Hesitantly, she edged forward, unsure of herself and the world about her -- the ground was too close, the water too near. Slowly, she crept on, her balance strange, her tail a distraction, her feet heavy. Yet with every stride she grew alert to a new essence, a new vitality, a new hunger, until in mere moments she raced along the lake-side, two hundred yards devoured in less than a dozen heartbeats and almost nowhere left to run. Dragon swooped down over her, calling out to her, daring her. Tiger leapt high, clawing at nothing yet finding purchase in the cold night air. 

Together they climbed, the waterfall, the island, the world of the Nox falling away beneath them. Tiger's long stride matched the slow beat of Dragon's wings as she chased him across the sky to the way beyond. 

There was no time to stop and think, to fear or fall. No time to analyze each beat of dragon wing folding time and space; no possible solution to the complex transform etched in her flesh, carved on her soul. 

Planets dissolved as stars by the thousand grew bright only to diminish in the blink of an eye. Dragon flew on and on, Tiger chasing in his wake until they came upon a bright white sun. Dragon screamed, wings held out wide as he slowed, shrieking the hatred of ten times ten-thousand years. 

A white mass, a small barren rock, glinted in reflected starlight high over a world of blue and green scarred black with pain. Talons dug deep into lifeless rock, claws raked up clouds of dust, as Dragon and Tiger stalked the airless moon. Unnatural eyes gazed down upon the infected world. Below them, ten times a hundred-thousand slaves toiled under the whip of a thousand Jaffa in sufferance to the yoke of the Goa'uld. 

Dragon quivered, screeching with rage. Tiger watched, waited, eager for the hunt, blood-lust consuming her, overwhelming her, a blackness edged with crimson devouring her sight. 


	4. Reflections

Sam woke in Saurav's arms, naked and cold. She stared at the hand she could see, at the claw painted there. Her eyes followed the stripes on her arm up to her shoulder, down the side of her body, on to her chest and stomach, golden brown like a fine fur over her fair skin. 

Awkwardly, she unwrapped herself from his embrace and slid away. Her mind had roared, her body had... Deliberately, she crawled on her hands and knees the few yards to the lake, pausing over grass that had been churned up, chillingly reminded of the fire, the passion, that had taken her, that what had happened was neither a dream nor an illusion. Sam crawled on. Her body didn't ache, there was no stress or pain. She scrutinized her reflection in the water, seeing the same familiar gentle creases and clear eyes, but with a new vitality. 

The water was cold but refreshing. She washed, rubbing at the markings Saurav had painted over her, growing uneasy as they remained stubbornly bright and clear. Sam shuddered as she cursed. She'd made assumptions, not thinking of the consequences. What Saurav had used, what he'd done, had penetrated her skin, the whole of her torso was now emblazoned with an enormous tattoo. 

Acceptance and rejection fought for domination in her confusion. She looked back to find Saurav watching her. Crouched at the lake's edge, letting the water trickle through her fingers, questions tumbled through her mind. There was, she knew, nothing to gain in getting angry, but there was a lot to learning to control her excitement. 

Her pulse was racing, and she was getting the biggest rush as Saurav's eyes swept over her. Sam knew the shape she was in. She knew she wasn't plain, but equally she knew she wasn't exotic either. But still, his look followed her curves, lingering where she'd normally not welcome it. 

So much was wrong and she had so little room to manoeuvre. 

Still he waited, his interest self-evident. She stood slowly, turning her back to him, nervous, almost shy as she looked out over the water. She could turn, she could walk away, and be left with no answers. Or she could surrender, go to him, but she was compelled to make the first move before he could sway her mind. 

Sam trembled as he moved close behind her, as he captured her easily in his arms. "Who are you," she demanded, quietly. "What are you? What have you done to me? What have I become?" She cursed herself as she leaned back into his warmth, taking comfort in his strength. "Was it me? That animal? Was it me, or some... thing you drew?" 

The air was quiet, the lake still, the water like glass. The sun rose over the trees, the circle of the gate an incongruous halo around the star. Saurav's arms held her just as she had no intention of allowing him to let her go. 

Yet what was happening was too big, too much, too soon -- perhaps, this time, even too much for her. Always there'd been an edge. It was what she used to live for. But she'd lived on it for so long, she'd begun to fear she'd become dependent on it. And now? 

They stood by the lake-shore, basking in the warmth of the sun. 

"I'm hungry," Sam said. 

"You are both hungry," Saurav said, quietly. 

"Why me, Saurav?" 

"Yours is the spirit of a warrior, yours is the greater capacity of mind and soul. You do not seek or desire enlightenment for yourself, but it would most certainly have found you." 

"And you're offering it to me?" Sam twisted in Saurav's arms, turned to face him, to look into his eyes. "I've seen it. I've seen Oma Desala and her kind. I thought..." Sam stopped, wondering just how much he knew, how deep he could see inside her. "I thought I loved one of them once." 

"Yes, you would. They carry their beauty and grace as a symbol of how they see the truth." Saurav's features took on a serious expression Sam hadn't seen before. "They seek to protect the Harsesis Child to their own ends." He shrugged. "We do not agree, but we do not interfere." 

"Then, what do you want of me?" 

Saurav laughed. "A moment of your time, the joy of your company, the luxury of your smile, the beauty of your truth. You do not see it yet, but... you do not know, you cannot. Not yet." Gently, Saurav took Sam's hand. "So I must tell you." Slowly, he led her away from the lake to the shadow of the stargate. On the ground in front of it there was fresh fruit and heavenly scented flowers. 

"When I came here, the first time I saw you, I sought only to converse with you." They sat on the the soft grass, amid the flowers, sharing the fruit as Sam leaned against him, as they found again how well they fit together. "Instead, I have placed a burden upon you." Saurav held her close. "You are already changed, Sam. I sense your fear, but it is not too late. Let me tell you of my people, of who I am, what I am, and how I came here, then you may decide. 

"My people are many. When the ancients were not so old, we followed where they led. We walked without fear on innumerable planets, making new homes, seeking our own enlightenment. Our appetite was insatiable, our curiosity as unbridled as yours. Our numbers grew, we were spread far and wide. We evolved, so far that we no longer needed these circles to travel the vast distances between the stars. 

"As the younger races emerged we found within us our own peace, we began to withdraw; but as we did, not all of our children returned home. So it is that our legacy can be found on many of these worlds. 

"I am but a man, a simple man, but some of that legacy is mine. His name is Siva. He is the snake, the serpent, the dragon upon my back. I am his vahana, his vehicle. In return, he is my guide for as long as I would carry him. 

"Among my people there is only one Siva. 

"I sense a purpose in you, Sam. I sense a destiny that has already seen the truth." Saurav frowned. "And yet, I also sense there are more truths still to be told." 

"I was a host once," Sam said, quietly. "To a symbiote -- not Goa'uld -- Tok'ra." 

"Jolinar," Saurav smiled, looked away, distant. "Yes, I know of Jolinar of the Tok'ra. You should not be surprised, I can see her mark inside you. Enlightenment comes in many varied and subtle ways on the path to liberation." 

"She sacrificed herself to save me." 

"Yes, she would. But that is not what I said." Saurav drew Sam closer into his arms. "There are many futures ahead of you. We travel the same roads, many of them, together and apart. Our paths are intertwined, but our journeys are not the same." 

"You see all that?" 

"No, not all." Saurav laughed. "Siva sees more. His eyes are keener than mine, his spirit is older, wiser." 

"Who is Siva?" 

"Siva is a memory, a cherished ideal, a wise and glorious being, an icon of hope and strength, of freedom and virtue and justice." 

"And you carry him on your back?" 

"Is there not some symbol of your gods? Do you not carry them with you? When we were young, the Ancients were as gods to us. They commanded our respect but not our devotion. We choose to remember them, to honor them. They have shown us the way beyond. They are not deities, but teachers of those who were prepared to learn, who were willing to devote their lives to the truth." 

Sam held out her arms, so that she could see herself more clearly. She sat up, so that Saurav could see her. "Does this one have a name?" 

"Her name is Durga." Saurav gazed into the distance, at the waterfall sparkling in the sunlight. "There was not always peace amongst the Ancients and the elder races. Durga was a golden warrior, bright and powerful, a force to be feared, a slayer possessed of great skill and cunning." 

"Oh?" Sam leaned back into Saurav's arms. The morning was bright and fresh, the air was still, tranquil. "Am I supposed to be flattered?" 

Saurav shook his head slowly. "Do you not see what I have done? I have given you the spirit of Durga. Without your knowledge or your consent, I have cast you as her vahana. Few have the strength to carry her. None would ask. She is not borne lightly. 

"Some of us choose. Others of us are chosen. It is not flattery. Some, perhaps, would call it destiny." Saurav frowned. "Others would call it ill-luck." 

"I am the..." Saurav paused. "I do not know your society, I do not know the term amongst your people. I am a guardian of my people. We do not have leaders, nor councils of elders, yet each of us has our own place. Where there is a need, one of us takes that task. I am not the eldest, nor the strongest, nor the wisest. But I, too, was chosen. 

"There is only one Siva. There is only one Durga. 

"You are not of my people, Sam. It is not mine to force Durga upon you. In truth, I did not expect Durga to find a home within your spirit, but I am glad that she lives again." 

"Durga is special to you?" 

"Not just to me, or my people. Durga was the consort of Siva. But we were a peaceful people; we had no need for warriors. Siva lived alone." 

"And now you've drawn her on me, somehow she lives again." 

"She should not; your life pattern should forbid it. The design... It was done for the truth, so that it could not be misused. The Goa'uld mock us for it. They force a desecration of the design on their slaves, but their life patterns cannot be transformed just as they themselves cannot. 

"Life pattern?" Sam paused. "You mean DNA?" She drew a crude double helix in the air; Saurav nodded. "The design and the chemicals in the plant alter the DNA?" Sam held out her arms, traced one thread of the pattern with a finger. "I would say that was ridiculous but given how much redundancy there is... and how much is shared between species... But that would mean we have common ancestors." Sam stopped at Saurav's look. "I should stopping thinking out loud." 

"No. But you do not need enlightenment, you need time." 

"No, I need answers. The chemicals and the design re-sequence the DNA. If the choice is mine, then the design can't be permanent." Sam looked to Saurav for confirmation. And for something more. "The design can't be permanent," she said softly. "I can't allow it to be permanent. I have a duty -- I can't... change." 

"It is not just the design that changes us, Sam, it is the truth we hold in our hearts. There is no darkness in you, yet you take the lives of others and bear that responsibility within your soul. It is not the weapon in your hands that gives you strength or courage, but your own desire for the truth. 

"To understand the truth is to face yourself and not turn away." 

Sam nodded slowly. "Last night, what you showed me? You need me, don't you? You need my help -- Durga's help -- to restore your people." 

"I would not ask." 

"But you thought --" 

"I gave you every opportunity to choose otherwise. I would have walked away," Saurav reminded her. "I would still. But you are correct -- within days the pattern will begin to fade. Sooner, the chemicals will leave your body." 

"Oh?" Sam sat up straight, wrapped her arms about her knees, stared out over the lake, beyond the waterfall, into the distance. The morning was beyond beautiful, the island was beyond idyllic, and her dreams... Time had stood still for little more than a few days and already she was beginning to question where she belonged, where her loyalties lay, where her duty began and her life stopped. 

There were few people she trusted -- and so few of those she would trust implicitly. When it came to survival, there were no differences between intuition and instinct. She'd sensed it in Saurav. Perhaps that was his truth she was seeing. 

"You would really leave me?" Sam asked, trying to keep the hurt out of her voice but knowing that Saurav would hear it anyway. 

"And you would stay here? Even when your time is over?" A cold shiver ran the length of Sam's spine at the despondency in Saurav's questions. "Could you walk away from your people?" Saurav sat up behind her, put his arms around her. "You understand, Sam, it is not you I question. It is so much more than that." Saurav drew her into his lap, turning her around to face him. "All that has happened, the roads we have taken that have brought us together. Why?" 

"Fate," Sam said. "Daniel -- a friend of mine -- would call it the fate of poets and mythologists." Sam laughed. "A power superior to gods and men," she quoted, "swaying all things irresistibly." 

Saurav grinned. "There is an old axiom among my people, a proposition, its truth assumed to be self-evident: if our existence was so simple that we could understand it, we would be so simple that we could not. And yet I believe the answer is still there to be found; is that not why we are here? 

"Durga knows," Sam said quietly, unsure of herself, what she was hearing, what she was seeing. "There was a philosopher," she paused, listening intently as Durga spoke to her. "She says he saw the way beyond... not as it is but as it should be." 

"Siva also remembers him," Saurav said, slowly. "He died. Millennia ago, he died when..." 

"No, Saurav, his spirit lives on," Sam interrupted. "Beyond the realms of the ascended, beyond the realms of the ancients. Saurav?" Sam looked to him for reassurance. She shivered; the sun had risen higher in the sky, and now they sat in shadow. "Saurav, _I_ know... I was there." 


	5. Twilight

The white star one hundred and fifty million miles away was but a speck; one amongst trillions, one amongst tens of thousands she could count unaided with her human eyes alone -- if she had the inclination and the time. 

The small moon she prowled restlessly was an insignificant satellite; one small barren rock orbiting an equally insignificant blue-green world once the home of an old race that dared follow the footsteps of the Ancients. 

Sam listened as Durga whispered to her of the Ancients, of the people that had once lived on that small world. Durga whispered of happiness and peace, of quiet contemplation; she whispered of the exploration of stars and planets and moons that Sam could not comprehend in their wonder. 

Saurav looked on, listening also to the voice he had known once so long ago when Siva was still young. He had tried to prepare Sam to accept and believe in herself. "Listen to her," he had said. "Listen to her as if she was your own voice of reason," he had urged. "Within you is the capacity to hear." He had smiled and held her close. "Accept that she speaks the truth as you would speak it yourself." 

"Trust," he had said finally, quietly. 

... 

The grass at the edge of the forest was emerald green, cool and moist. Above her were the foothills of the great mountains and, closer, the ancient stone bridge that led to the temple. She knew there were many masters, many ways, many secret paths that would take her there, but today that place was not for her. 

She let Durga guide her away from the trees, away from the mountains, through the open land, across the endless day. Her body was strong and sleek, she moved easily, with a grace that belied the physical form still so new to her; so much more was she than human, so much more than the tigress whose shape she wore. 

The sun was high in the sky but still she ran tirelessly, every heartbeat a year sliding through time, slicing through space, every stride taking her from that which was to what may be. 

The grass flowed beneath her until she came at last to the sacred river seducing the sea. Her eyes glowed with longing as she saw the low walls on the far bank. Faster she ran and raced against the sprites that swarmed the surface of the river, jumping, leaping high over their heads. Now she was home, on the far side of never, the twilight of the evening, before the darkness of the long night. 

The philosopher and the warrior sat in the ancient garden amid the lotus blossoms. 

"Do you see her? The warrior maiden?" Durga whispered in her ear. "What once we were; what we shall become?" The philosopher remained constant, a young boy, aging slowly, becoming a wise and venerable old man. The warrior shimmered, changing, evolving as time and space shifted about her. Her first form was ancient, human in shape but not in dress or demeanor. There were so few of her as the eons unfolded, yet always there was an aura of power, of confidence and belief. 

"He senses you," Durga whispered. "He hears you, although she does not. Not yet." Durga sighed. "Go to them, child," she encouraged. 

Sam hesitated. She still wore the body of the tigress. As she took half a step the warrior stood and the old man lowered his head. "Sleep well, master," the warrior said. The half-step became a stride and she was standing whole, human. The warrior turned to her slowly, smiling but with a tear in her eye. "Our time approaches," she said, quietly. 

Sam watched herself wipe the tear away. "Our time?" she asked the warrior that she would become. 

The warrior regarded her closely. "Ever was the time before, when we dreamed of the never to be," she said, most disconcertingly taking her hand. "This is the eternal garden of the philosopher Chen Li. Very soon he will die and the garden will cease." 

"But if it's eternal..." Sam started, "You're talking in riddles." 

"Science and magic," the warrior said cryptically. 

Of course, Sam knew that was obvious. But the meaning behind it wasn't; as she saw the possibilities opening up before her, her future self stood more patiently, more quietly than she thought she ever could. She saw herself as she might become: her hair long, braided at her temples, but flowing free the length of her back; her skin was tanned, almost glowing with warmth; and the design... Her future stood easily in the brightest of short tunics of the lightest silk. She could see the tiger adorning her body, richer, darker, more intricate and complex than the simple patterns Saurav had painted on her. 

"Is there an apple, or do I have to earn this knowledge?" Sam asked, finally. She glanced at the old man as dark blotches began to spoil the edges of the garden. 

"The truth is within you," the warrior said, softly. "Allow Durga to guide you to the answers that you seek." A hint of red appeared at her lips as she smiled; tears of blood welled in her eyes as she blinked. "Listen to Saurav, heed his wisdom," she said, seemingly unaware, uncaring of the droplets falling from her ears, staining with crimson streaks her golden hair. "Trust." 

Yet the warrior's blood flowed, spoiling her cheeks, painting dark the soft smile on her lips. Sam wrenched her hand away, she couldn't stop herself from recoiling at the sight of the blood consuming her. 

Wide-eyed, the warrior she would become stared at her in disbelief and betrayal. Sam took a step back as shadow crept into the garden. She knew that the old man was dead and the garden was already dying. She took another step and suddenly she was crying out into the emptiness of space. 

The dragon, watching her, bellowed his concern, launching himself from the moon, entreating her to follow. The tiger ran after him, leaping high, chasing him across the void. Gaining on him, she ran faster, glimpsing the weft and the warp, the weaving of the way beyond. Quickly she was at dragon's side and together they left the stars in their wake, returning to their small island of now. 

Silently, they walked along the shore of the lake, keeping their fears to themselves yet holding their dreams in each others hands. 

... 

Sam watched Saurav stretch and twist and turn as the sun rose. His tunic flapped and whipped about him as he jumped and leapt, striking at the air with his feet. His face was calm and his eyes almost serene as he slowed, crouching, legs wide, inscribing circles in the air with his hands. In those few quiet moments they had to themselves Sam had seen that he would alternate between meditating and exercising, that he would never waste a minute of the day. 

And while she watched, she journeyed again in her mind the path that Durga had shown her. In her mind she saw again the snow-covered peaks high above the temple. And on the narrow bridge high overhead, now she could recall seeing two monks leaping as Saurav did, their robes beating the air; and beyond them she heard the soft chants and falling footsteps of others beginning their day. 

The warrior that she could be was lean and hard; the Major that she was now was heavy and soft. Her future hands were strong and firm; today... Yet she'd also seen the grace in the way she stood, the way she walked. She'd seen the respect for the old man, the happiness in her eyes, the joy in her smile. 

The first time she'd met an alternate self it had been more than a little disconcerting -- seeing the pain, the loss, the heartache for her Colonel and the suffering. She knew -- at least on the quantum level -- that two of her couldn't exist in the same reality as each other. Was it the same with the metaphysical, with the ontological? 

Was that the cause of her own future pain? Was it her presence in the garden? Was it their proximity? Or was it her fate to die with the philosopher and his garden? How many alternatives of her could there be, and which was the proper reflection of her self? Did she really have it within her to live an alternate reality? One of her own choosing? 

The more she thought, the less she understood. Durga had gone quiet; not speaking to her, not answering her questions. 

She tried to focus on Saurav but an itch began to gnaw at her, an electric hum began to beat at her ears. With a sudden sense of fear she recognized the awakening of the stargate. She knew that her time alone should not yet be over, that the stargate was being activated too soon. 

Within moments the stargate would lock and... 

She looked within herself for the spark that would let her transform. She called inwards, but Durga only watched the gate. Then she saw... She saw the worm-hole splash out and she fell to her knees, almost screaming at the enlightenment that threatened to overwhelm her. She saw the glowing ripple of the event horizon, the dividing line, and clutched at the new awareness. A new vitality coursed through her as she withdrew herself from the illusion of space, dismissing time from her mind. She raced away from the stargate, leaving Saurav behind. Her heart pounded as she leapt as high as she could, over the waterfall, not thinking of falling. 

The way beyond was hers now; she could see it clearly -- more than its shape, so much more than its pattern. She could see her destiny: the stars that had shaped her, the design that drove her. She heard Saurav's words echo through her mind, she heard Durga again, whispering the truth that was inside her. 

Faster than she'd ever ran, she didn't stop at the small moon but raced on to the eternal garden only for her faith to falter at the darkness she found. 

The old man was dead, his flesh gone, his bones bleached white by the hot sun. The garden was no longer green, the trees had withered, the lotus blossoms had shriveled, the grass turned black. 

Yet still the warrior stood beside him, resolute. "Now you return?" The scorn in her voice was plain. 

And standing beside her, she saw the shade of a girl, her face crimson, her hair bright red, matted, soaked in her own blood. The girl's cheek burned, blood spilled from her chin; a scarlet tongue flicked through teeth that sparkled like rubies, licking lips as bright as cherries. So plaintive, the girl cried. 

Sam stared in horror. "I'm sorry," she said. 

The warrior raised her head. "Master Chen lies dead; all this..." she spread her arms wide, "has come to an end," she whispered, the pain eating at her. "It is all I can do to sustain this place. The garden..." Her shoulders sagged at the weight of the task bearing down on her; yet she stood as tall as she could as she walked away. "Anubis has claimed this world for himself; just one of many in his empire," she continued, walking the winding path through the dead trees. "You come seeking your future, but it is not here. You see the child. Do you have the strength to withstand her death? Do you have the wisdom to bear that responsibility?" She paused, her face grim, bleak. "You come here and... and all you can say is that you're _sorry_?!" 

"I...", Sam started, but the warrior stopped her. 

"_I_?" The warrior cried back at her. She reached out, touched the branch of a tree. "_I_ stand here now so that you might live." New life spread out about the limb where her hand rested; new leaves sprouted and a flower grew. "A broken mirror never again reflects; fallen flowers never go back to the old branches," the warrior sighed. The twisting path had led the warrior to stand in front of her. Sam paled as she saw her eyes gone, her ears closed, her mouth empty. "Spare me your sorrow," her future said. 

Sam shrank back in shock. The words had come, but her lips never moved; she waited as if for an answer, but had no ears to hear it. 

"This choice was mine, and I chose to remain." The warrior inched closer, holding her with the sadness of her smile. "Will you?" Her future was more than blind, but still she knew that the warrior saw through to the core of her soul. Slowly, Sam reached out, not knowing if the choice was hers, if it ever was or ever would be. She reached out and took the warrior's hands, not resisting as she was drawn into her firm embrace. 

And she saw herself reflected back. She saw the tangled paths that had led to this moment; she saw the myriad broken dreams that lay ahead. She saw the face of her daughter who would come after; tears of blood flowed from her eyes, but she knew. She saw Durga smile. And she saw again the warriors that had come before, but now she heard them and knew there was still hope. 

"The dreams and the illusions shall be ours. We shall awaken to remember you. The stars themselves shall boil in the sky before we leave your side." 

This time she would not turn away. 

* * *

A/N : This completes the second part of the _Way Beyond_ trilogy. 

Many thanks to everyone who has submitted reviews. It really is very encouraging to know that you are prepared to take the time to read a complex story that is, at best, difficult and confusing. Almost all of the answers (and questions) are there, but there are a few more still to come. 

To be concluded in _Forever::Beyond The Golden Mean_. 


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